flylikeabowtie:

kathlynarce:

teapots-and-traditions:

Want so badly to be real. Want. 

Oh my god. Tears. Literal tears.

kathlynarce:

teapots-and-traditions:

Want so badly to be real. Want. 

Oh my god. Tears. Literal tears.

“I’m finished,” he says. 

A cacophony of sound as voices erupt from the screen. 

“What are you doing!”

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t be stupid Doctor, what are you playing at?”

“Doctor…” The Last Centurion, asking for one more miracle.

“My love. Listen to me. You can’t do this. This isn’t the time, nor the place. You know that as well as I. You know - “

“STOP!” he yells. He slams his hands on the table, face contorted in some semblance of emotion: all at once completely alien yet entirely recognisable. Nose crinkles, ever so slightly. A tremor - a shiver. 

He looks down. Whispers.

“Please.”

Silence.

He looks at them all, studies their faces one by one. He loved them all so very much. Too much. The TARDIS is fast running out of power, draining nearby stars for energy just to break through into eight fractured times. Eight fractured lives. 

“I never forget, you know. I remember each one of you. I remember everywhere we went, everything we did. Everything I did. I can’t - “

He pauses, the words catching in the back of his throat. Closes his eyes slowly, breathes in, counts to ten.

“I can’t do this anymore. Everything has it’s time. And everything dies.” A pause and then - “Even me.”

Old faces look back at him. Below them, his own old faces. Their screens are muted; he knows what they’ll say. Knows that he would never have given up when he was young. But he is old.

He is so very old.

Tears start pouring down Amy’s face.

“Doctor. Doctor I know you can hear me. Raggedy Man. I knew we’d see each other again. You told me we would travel forever. Don’t let this be the last time, huh? Don’t - don’t let this be another goodbye.”

He swallows.

“I’m sorry,” he says, as much to himself as to the faces on the screens. “I should never have done this. I don’t have much time. I just wanted to say - “

He looks at Rose for a moment. Remembers the taste of her lips on another mouth, her warmth in different hearts. Remembers Martha. The things he said. 

The things he didn’t say.

Words he had rehearsed, words he should have shared long ago with each one of the people he kept locked in his two very broken hearts. 

“I just wanted to say - “

Darkness. There are no more stars in the Doctor’s sky and the TARDIS slowly dies.

She is not alone.

Silence.

Then one final whisper.

“Goodbye.”

how about we don’t do that 

(Source: savedher)